


love doesn't discriminate

by awashleyno



Series: Soft Eddie Diaz [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buckley Diaz Family Feels, Confessions, Eddie is the little spoon ok, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Soft Eddie Diaz, Yearning, bed sharing, eddie just wants to take care of buck, so much soft..., so much yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25339216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awashleyno/pseuds/awashleyno
Summary: “Eddie,” Buck murmurs, in a way that makes his stomach flip, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily.“Yeah, Buck?” He answers, just as soft, like if he speaks any louder it’ll somehow break the moment they’re building together.“I’m so tired,” Buck admits, his weight suddenly heavy against Eddie’s back as his arms slide around his waist, his face mashed in against Eddie’s neck. It’s not the first time Buck’s done it — he gets ridiculously clingy when he’s tired — but Eddie’s body reacts like it is, his pulse jack-rabbiting in his chest before kicking into high gear.Or,Buck gets tired and uses Eddie as a pillow.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Soft Eddie Diaz [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835128
Comments: 154
Kudos: 795





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riasao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riasao/gifts), [charlxo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlxo/gifts), [beffwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beffwrites/gifts).



> my pal ria prompted eddie running his fingers through buck's hair, "which migrates to smoothing out the crease in buck's forehead and then tracing over buck's birthmark" and here we are!
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

Eddie’s dead on his feet as he hops out of the truck, hopefully for the last time tonight, but he doubts his luck will ever be that good. It feels as though he’s working through quicksand as he pulls his gear off, as he hangs it up, eyelids drooping while he turns to see his team doing the same.

Buck, on the other hand, looks even worse than he does, and Eddie can’t help but wonder if his friend’s having another rough week. Even though he always tells him Buck can call him, or come over, any time things get bad, Buck rarely does. It usually takes Eddie calling him out on it — _I don’t wanna put you out_ , Buck always says — for him to admit to it.

This time, Eddie doesn’t even say anything, just simply walks over to help Buck with his gear, giving him a curt nod when he catches the grateful look on Buck’s face. It’s not the first time Eddie has stepped in, offered a hand, and it won’t be the last. They’re alone now, anyway — not that anyone would think anything of it. They’re attached at the hip, always have been, and have been openly tactile, no regard to who might be watching or what they may think.

Eddie knows what they think.

They’re not exactly wrong, either.

While he hasn’t admitted as much to Buck, he’s sure the team has picked up on how he feels about the man. At least, Chimney knows, given the amount of times Eddie has turned to him, confided things in him. It’s just… he can only take so much at a time, can only put up with so much of the aching _want_ he feels in his chest without ever saying anything about it.

It’s times like these that make it even more difficult to remember they’re _just friends_ : when Buck’s leaning against him, forehead on Eddie’s shoulder blade as he hangs the man’s coat up, Buck’s fingertips drifting up Eddie’s sides before he grasps at his shirt.

“Eddie,” Buck murmurs, in a way that makes his stomach flip, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily. 

“Yeah, Buck?” He answers, just as soft, like if he speaks any louder it’ll somehow break the moment they’re building together.

“I’m so tired,” Buck admits, his weight suddenly heavy against Eddie’s back as his arms slide around his waist, his face mashed in against Eddie’s neck. It’s not the first time Buck’s done it — he gets ridiculously clingy when he’s tired — but Eddie’s body reacts like it is, his pulse jack-rabbiting in his chest before kicking into high gear. 

“Then why don’t you go lay down?” Eddie suggests, his hands coming up to rest on where Buck’s arms are wrapped around him, glancing down towards the picture it makes. Selfishly, he doesn’t want Buck to actually do it — he wants to keep him here, against his back, wrapped around him; where Eddie can pretend like this is something he can have whenever he wants it.

“Dunno if I remember how to walk,” Buck mumbles against his neck, Eddie just barely managing to hold back a shiver as he feels the man’s breath wash over his skin. That’s not what this is about — that’s not what he needs to be focusing on right now.

“C’mon,” Eddie murmurs, turning slightly in Buck’s grasp, smiling when the man grunts in response. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Buck had been falling asleep pressed up against his back. “Let’s at least get a little food in you so you don’t wake up hangry.”

“I don’t get hangry,” Buck huffs, affronted as he leans back, levels Eddie with a half-hearted glare, his hands shifting until they’re resting on Eddie’s hips and that’s… it’s a bit too much, if he’s being truly honest.

“Yes, you do, Buck,” Eddie says, an endeared smile on his face as he reaches up, curls his hands around Buck’s wrists to peel them off his body, squeezing them gently before releasing one, the other kept still for leverage to pull him away and up the stairs to the loft.

It’s nothing extravagant, the dinner Bobby whips up for them, but then, none of them are complaining. They need the food, if they’re going to make it through the last four hours of their shift and they know not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Eddie considers it pure luck that the alarm doesn’t go off.

It takes not even fifteen minutes for Buck to start slipping down in his seat next to Eddie, swaying, like one of those toddlers right before their nap time: fighting to keep their eyes open and their head up, like he’s lost control of the muscles in his neck.

“Buck,” Eddie says, nudges his friend with his elbow, sighs softly as he sees him jolt upright, eyes flying open.

“I’m awake,” he grunts, making Eddie chuckle softly, again so utterly fucking endeared he feels like he’s about to burst with it.

“You’re really not,” Eddie answers, shoving his chair back and grabbing for Buck’s wrist again, tugging at him as he heads towards the couch. It’s closer than the bunk room and he won’t have to worry about trying to get Buck further than a few feet.

“‘Kay, ‘m not,” Buck mumbles, eyes half closed as he stumbles after Eddie, all but collapsing down onto the couch once they make it, sighing as if he’s just found the most comfortable thing in the world, like he doesn’t have to fold his long legs up just to fit on the damn thing.

Eddie turns to make his way back to the table, to help Hen and Chim with the dishes, when suddenly there’s a familiar hand wrapping around his wrist this time. It makes his eyebrows raise, head tilting as he turns back to the man. The picture he makes, curled up, somehow looking small in a way Buck rarely does, his eyes hooded but soft, pleading, his bottom lip jutting out… it tugs on Eddie’s heart before the man even opens his mouth.

“Will you stay with me a bit?” Buck asks, his thumb brushing across Eddie’s wrist, teeth digging into his bottom lip, like he’s nervous. “At least… ’til I fall asleep.”

Again, it’s nothing new, nothing they haven’t done before. They’ve fallen asleep together on Eddie’s couch more times than he can count, staying up late into the morning just _talking_ , until they can’t keep their eyes open any longer, but Eddie can manage to find just the right word.

_Stay_.

“Yeah, alright,” Eddie murmurs, shifting around towards the end of the couch, sitting down near Buck’s head, his hand coming up to grab for the blanket they keep draped across the back for these very moments.

As Eddie’s draping it over Buck, his friend starts to move, shifting until he’s got his head cradled in Eddie’s lap, sighing softly, happily — looking so fucking content, it makes Eddie’s heart squeeze in his chest.

“Need a good pillow,” Buck mumbles, rubbing his cheek against Eddie’s thigh as he settles in, eyes closed as his face cracks open around a yawn.

Eddie wouldn’t know what to say, if he could even find words in a moment like this. His hands seem to work out just what to do, though, his fingers sliding into Buck’s curls before he even realizes he’s doing it. If anything, it’s not until Buck makes a happy, pleased sound that Eddie even puts it together, notices he’s not doing so well at keeping his cards close to his chest.

But, fuck, he just can’t help it. Once he starts, he can’t seem to stop, his fingers migrating from Buck’s hair down to his forehead. Even as he’s trying to relax, there’s a tense set there, creases that Eddie works at smoothing out with the pad of his thumb; gently, slowly. Just as he sometimes used to do with Chris when he was having a hard time sleeping, he passes his thumb down the length of Buck’s nose, a little trick he’s learned to keep his eyes closed.

Still, he can’t stop, his eyes drifting across Buck’s face, his sleepy features, the way he’s going lax against the couch. Eddie’s not sure if he’s asleep yet or not, so he smooths his thumb over the man’s brows, stopping once he reaches his birthmark. It’s striking, in the harsh lights of the firehouse, beautiful, and Eddie yearns to replace his thumb with his lips, to caress Buck’s skin, shower him in the affection he so deserves.

But, that’s not his place — he’s already pushing it, his fingertips sliding down Buck’s jaw, eyes dancing over his face, until he stops, takes in the slow, soft puffs of breath that spill out of the man’s mouth. He’s definitely asleep now and Eddie’s stuck here with him — a fact that does nothing but bring a soft smile to his face.

Buck’s always putting himself out there, ready and willing to walk across goddamn fire to be there for those he loves. Eddie wants him to know he’s not alone, that he’d do the same damn thing for him anytime, anywhere, for _anything_.

There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Buck.

“Y’know, someday… you oughta tell him,” Hen says, suddenly, making Eddie jolt somewhat, torn away from where he’d been busy passing his thumb across Buck’s cheekbone.

When he looks up at Hen, she’s got this soft smile on her face, knowing eyes staring down at him — but, it doesn’t make him feel cornered or judged. He feels _encouraged_ and accepted, like Hen’s trying to give him the push he’s always been looking for. 

“I will,” Eddie murmurs, glancing down at Buck, his lips twitching with a small, fond smile. “Someday.”

But, for now, Eddie’s going to let him sleep.


	2. it became a pastime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i really write 4.9k worth of a chapter no one asked for?? mayhaps
> 
> but, i did use a prompt from a friend, which is as follows: “Will you stay with me? Tonight? I just— I’d feel better knowing you’re near.”
> 
> let's find out how we get there :)

It becomes something of a thing, after that, Buck using Eddie as a pillow to fall asleep.

In the truck, at the table, on the couch, his head nestled against Eddie’s shoulder, or his side, on his lap. Though, he never settles right away, not until Eddie moves his hand up and into his hair. The tension always seems to bleed out of Buck as soon as he touches him, gives him enough time to relax, to give way and let himself rest. Even if it’s for five minutes, an hour, it doesn’t seem to matter to Buck.

It doesn’t end there, either. If anything, that moment on the couch seems to open the floodgates of whatever the hell _this_ is. Eddie becoming Buck’s personal body pillow? He has no idea how to explain it, or how it’s _comfortable_ for him in any way. 

But, Buck’s finally getting some sleep. He doesn’t look dead on his feet anymore, the bags under his eyes gone. No, instead he’s wandering around with a new bounce in his step, happy and bright-eyed in a way that makes Eddie’s heart twist in his chest. 

He likes to think it’s _because of him_ , but maybe that’s just him being selfish. So Buck’s sleeping again, so what? 

So he’s doing it by using Eddie as a pillow… it is what it is. 

The only problem is, now Eddie isn’t sleeping. 

Not that he’d necessarily been getting a good amount of sleep _before_ , but it’s even less so now, with the way his mind has been running away from him. Not only that, but apparently his body can only now associate sleep with _Buck_ , and that… well, it’s really fucking inconvenient because Buck isn’t always around. 

As much as Eddie wishes he would be. 

It doesn’t help, either, that he still hasn’t said a word to Buck, even though he’d told Hen that he would. Granted, he hadn’t said when, he’d just said _someday_. 

So, yeah, that’s really not helping with the whole sleep thing, either. Not when it means his head is running away from him constantly, at war between admitting everything to Buck, laying himself out there bare and _known_ , or keeping it to himself, wrapped up tight in his chest where only he knows it thrives. 

It only makes sense that it winds up catching up with him eventually: the lack of sleep. Just as it had for Buck. 

“Earth to Eddie,” Chimney’s voice rings out, his hand waving in front of Eddie’s face as he sits on the bench in the locker room, obviously having zoned out momentarily in his endeavor to change into his street shoes. 

“Huh?” Eddie asks, looking up at his friend. His stomach churns at the brief flash of worry he sees go through Chim’s eyes — Eddie’s a big boy, he can look after himself. 

As soon as the nasty thought’s there, though, it’s gone, because he knows Chim means nothing but the best — he’s not Eddie’s father, using those eyes on Eddie over every damn thing he does wrong in his life. 

Chim’s doing it because he _cares_ , not because he’s trying to control him. 

“I said Hen wants to hit up the bar after work, grab a drink. You wanna come?” Chim offers, though Eddie can tell by his quirked eyebrow and crossed arms that he already knows the answer. 

“I can’t, man,” Eddie admits, hands on his knees as he lifts himself into a proper sitting position, grimacing as it tugs at all his sore muscles. Not sleeping also means his body’s not quite happy with him, not getting the rest and relaxation it needs. He can’t sleep, so he gets up with the sun, works out until Christopher wakes up and both their days properly start. 

“Can’t what?” Buck asks as he wanders into the room, pulling Eddie’s eyes immediately towards him. It’s pathetic, the way his breath catches, as it always seems to do when Buck comes around. 

“Come out with us,” Chim answers for him, gesturing towards Eddie, “think our pal here is about dead on his feet like you were last week. You pass it onto him, then?” 

Chimney’s teasing, that much is obvious, and it makes Eddie’s lips twitch with a small smirk. Buck seems to have opposite reaction, though, a frown marring his features that has no right to look as beautiful as it does. God, he really must need sleep if all he wants to do is wax poetic about how beautiful Buck is. 

Then again, that’s not necessarily new. 

“You’ve not been sleeping?” Buck asks, something hiding behind his tone that Eddie can’t quite place, that has him hunching down a bit, guilt swirling in his chest. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Eddie plays, shrugging his shoulders, finally ducking back down to finish lacing up his boots. That way, he doesn’t have to keep looking at Buck, he can pretend like he’s not somehow disappointing him just because he hasn’t been sleeping. 

“Yes, Eddie, it is a _big deal_ ,” Buck counters and Eddie looks up only when he hears the door open and shut again, Chimney’s retreating figure on the other side of the glass wall. 

_Good luck_ , Chim mouths to him, following it with a quick thumbs up before he turns and catches up to Hen, no doubt relaying the story of why neither Eddie nor Buck will be joining them tonight. 

Eddie knows Buck far too well, after all. Given the tone of his voice, the look on his face, the way his hands have come to settle on his hips once Eddie finally turns his attention to him… he’s not going to be able to shake him off for the rest of the night. 

“It’s really not, Buck,” Eddie answers, rising from the bench, turning to grab his bag from his locker and sling it over his shoulder. He makes to leave the locker room, only to be stopped by Buck moving to stand in front of the door, practically looming over Eddie even though there’s only a few inches worth of difference between them. Buck can use it, when he wants to, and he’s certainly doing it now. 

“Eddie,” he says, curt, serious, “I’ve been using you as a literal pillow for the past _week_ and you never…” Buck pauses and sighs, deflating somewhat before Eddie, which is somehow _worse_ than when he’d been all height and worry and authoritative. 

“Because I’m handling it,” Eddie answers, shrugging his shoulders, “it’s nothing new for me, Buck.” Though, it’s not helping that he can’t stop the jaw-cracking yawn he lets out around his words, a short huff following it as he sees his friend narrow his eyes at him. 

“I’m driving you home,” Buck says, firm, shaking his head the moment Eddie opens his mouth to protest. “No, Eddie. I’m doing this. I’m driving you home and you’re gonna relax while I make dinner and help with Christopher because, if I know you at all, you haven’t been giving yourself a break whatsoever.” 

Which is true, but he never has _time_ for a break. He really does have two jobs and one of them begins as soon as the other one ends — not that he’s complaining. He loves Christopher more than anything in the entire goddamn _world_ , would cross oceans and walk through fire for him, and Buck knows this. He knows practically. everything about Eddie. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Eddie murmurs, letting himself deflate, even if it’s just a tiny bit, lets himself accept the help that Buck is offering, because… well, because it’s _Buck_. When has he ever been good at saying no to Buck? 

“I want to,” Buck answers, sincere, his eyes warm and his smile kind as he catches Eddie’s eye, reaching out to slide the bag from Eddie’s shoulder, draping it over his own instead. “Let me take care of you, Eddie.” 

And, fuck, how can he deny _that_? Buck’s words so soft, open, it makes Eddie’s breath catch, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he stares up at his friend. He feels it, deep in his goddamn bones: how tired he is, the ache to just… let someone _in_ for once, to shoulder the responsibility off to someone else, to Buck. 

He’s done it before, what would be so bad about doing it again? He trusts Buck with his son’s life, more than anyone — there’s no doubt he trusts him with his own, as well. 

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, and it’s all worth it for the way Buck lights up before him, as if he’s delighted to have this responsibility — as if it’s the best thing in the world, to have to drive Eddie home, to cook for him, to help with Christopher. 

Eddie tries not to think about how he wouldn’t hate it if this became a regular thing. 

“Right, then, let’s go see my favorite Diaz,” Buck teases, finally making Eddie smirk, a soft snort following his words as he walks through the open door of the locker room, Buck quick to fall into step beside him. 

Even as they drive home, Eddie’s head lolling against the back of the seat, his eyes closed, Buck fills the silence between them with his soft words. He talks about Maddie, how excited he is for her and the baby. About how much work it’ll probably be to baby proof his loft, but that it’ll be so _worth it_ , because then he could have the baby over whenever and isn’t that just _awesome_ , Eddie? 

He’s not sure if it’s Buck’s way to try and keep him awake until they get home, or to try and lull him into sleep, but all Eddie does is hang in a weird sort of limbo, taking in the words and nothing else. Not until the Jeep pulls to a stop and Buck’s hand is on his knee. 

“What?” Eddie asks, sitting upright, eyes flying open as he turns his head to look at Buck, somewhat embarrassed when he’s met with the fond, amused look on his face. 

“I said we’re home,” Buck answers, his face twisting then, something passing through his expression that Eddie can’t quite place, “or, at your house, anyway.” 

Before Eddie can ask what he means, why he’d corrected himself, his friend is sliding out of the Jeep and walking around to open the door for Eddie. It’s a testament to how tired he really is that he hasn’t even gotten his seatbelt undone by the time the door’s opening. Or, maybe it’s just Buck’s long legs at work. 

“Wow, I’m really getting the full five-star treatment, huh?” Eddie teases, turning to slide out of the car, holding onto the door until his feet hit solid ground. “No wonder you’ve always got ladies fawning all over you.” 

Again, something flashes across Buck’s face before there’s a smile there, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Mm, I’m nothing if not a complete gentleman, Eddie,” Buck answers, waiting until Eddie’s moved out of the way to shut the door, Eddie’s bag again draped over Buck’s shoulder. 

He makes no comment about why Buck’s isn’t included, bites his tongue against it as he shuffles his way up the walk to his front door, gearing himself up for the endless amounts of energy Christopher is going to be shooting off the second the door opens. 

“Dad!” Christopher shouts as soon as the door swings open, his crutches making quick work across the floor towards him, just enough time for Eddie to drop to the floor and open his arms, accept Christopher into them with a soft sigh. 

“Hey, buddy,” Eddie whispers, tilting his head to press a kiss to the mess of Christopher’s curls, ruffling them softly as he pulls back. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” Christopher answers, smiling brightly, none the wiser to who’s waiting just outside on the porch. Eddie’s surprised Buck hadn’t let himself in straight away, curious, until he looks over his shoulder and catches him just to the side, sees him wink. 

“Hey, guess what?” Eddie says, turning his attention back to his son, his hands dropping down to his shoulders, “I’ve brought home a surprise for you.” 

“Really?” Christopher asks, brightening up even more before Eddie’s eyes, as if that’s even possible. God, he loves his kid. 

“Sure did,” Eddie answers, rising to his feet and standing aside, gesturing for Buck to join them. 

The excited shout of _Buck!_ sends something warm curling through Eddie’s chest, fondness on his expression as he watches the two greet each other. He’s not sure what Buck whispers to Christopher in that moment, only sees him nod before he turns to wander off towards the kitchen, Buck throwing a wink Eddie’s way before he’s disappearing after him. 

“Well, I guess my shift is over,” Carla teases beside him, bringing Eddie’s attention her way, his face shifting once more as he offers her a kind smile. 

“Apparently it’s Buck’s turn,” he teases, gaze flitting back towards where the pair had disappeared off to, their soft voices filtering back towards him. Again, Eddie’s chest aches, yearning for this to be _normal_ , something he can always find himself looking forward to. 

“Gives you a chance to look after your own self, too,” Carla points out, leveling Eddie with a look that’s far too similar to the one Buck had been wearing back at the station. It makes him feel small, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he sighs, deflating yet again. 

“Yeah, I know, I’ve heard it all already from Buck,” Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes and battling a smile when Carla laughs softly next to him. 

“You boys,” she murmurs, her head shaking, shouldering her purse before she moves to the front door, hovering there as he turns to look back at Eddie. He already knows the drill, if there was anything troubling worth passing on about Christopher she’d have told him, everything else already on Eddie’s phone by way of text updates he’d asked her to give. Even if he’s on the job and can’t read them, he likes having them in his down time — they’re always bound to bring a smile to his face. 

“Thank you, Carla,” Eddie says, even though she always tells him he doesn’t have to thank her — she’s happy to help, she’d do anything for him and his son. God bless her soul, truthfully; Eddie would be lost without her. 

“Edmundo Diaz, you know better than to say that to me,” Carla scolds, but there’s a kind smile on her face as she stands in his doorway, her eyes flickering towards the kitchen, where Buck and Christopher’s laughter is filling the room. Fuck, but does Eddie love that sound. 

“Too late, I already said it,” Eddie answers, a wide grin on his face, though it falls apart as he yawns again, that same exhaustion creeping back up on him that he can only hold at bay for so long. 

“Mhm,” Carla answers, nodding, “go on, then. Go spend time with your boys.” Which, okay, Christopher is definitely his boy but… _Buck_? 

Carla must see it in his eyes, the emotions swirling around, battling against one another, against her words, because she simply smiles kindly at him, in her all-too-knowing way as she turns and walks right out his door. 

“And get some sleep, young man, or so help me!” Eddie laughs, waving goodbye as she drives off, before he shuts the door and wanders back into the kitchen, following the smell of…

“What in the world,” Eddie says, eyes wide as he takes in the state of his kitchen, “I left you two alone for five minutes!” 

There’s flour in almost every bit of Christopher’s curls and, when Eddie’s gaze shifts to Buck, he sees it dusted across his face, on the tip of his nose, though it does nothing to lessen the pink hue to his cheeks as he blushes. 

“We’re making pizza!” Christopher yells, pleased as punch, and it’s enough to make Eddie relax, to make him forget about the absolute mess they’ve made of each other’s faces. So, that explains all the giggling. 

“I see,” Eddie says, wandering over to join the pair, smirking as he once again takes in the mess of Buck’s face. He reaches up, brushing his thumb across the man’s cheekbone, adding: “You’ve got a little something.” 

It’s all worth it for the deeper shade of red Buck’s cheeks turn, Eddie’s teeth digging into his bottom lip as he holds back a grin, his eyes locked with Buck’s own. He feels like he’s in limbo, staring at him, his hand somehow having come to rest against Buck’s jaw. It’s nothing new, he’s done it countless times now, in his efforts to help the man sleep, but it feels… different, _heavy_ ; because, this time, Buck’s looking at him, his lips parted, his breathing shallow, and Eddie…

Well, Eddie doesn’t do anything, because the next thing he knows, Christopher is flicking flour at him as well, making him gasp and Buck let out a startled bit of laughter that makes Eddie’s hand fall and the moment shatter apart. 

And, even though he’s bone tired, he manages to forget all about it as he works together with Buck and Christopher, in between their ridiculous flour fights. He watches with fondness as Buck explains everything to Chris, tries to ignore the feeling swelling in his chest at how well Buck _fits_ in his family; like he was always meant to be there. They all work together so seamlessly, effortlessly, Buck always one step ahead of him like he is on the field. 

By the time he’s settled on the couch after dinner, full and happy and content, his head is pulling that same shit Buck’s had done at the dinner table last week, nodding back and forth. He’s not even sure what’s on at the moment, another movie Chris had picked out, who… isn’t anywhere to be found when Eddie opens his eyes next. 

It’s dark out now, the TV still on but muted, Buck and his son no longer in the room. Before he can feel any sense of panic over what might’ve happened — they’re fine, Buck would look after him, it’s _fine_ — Eddie hears the soft sound of running water in the kitchen. Even though it’s a fight to stand up, he does it, his joints popping with a groan, practically yelling at him for having dozed off sitting up on the couch. 

“Buck?” Eddie asks, rubbing at his eyes as he wanders into the kitchen, dropping his hands in enough time to see his friend startle where he’s elbows deep in the sink, bubbles splattering against the counter. 

“Shit, Eddie, I thought you were asleep,” Buck answers, glancing over his shoulder at him, his eyes soft around the edges. He’s not sure what sort of sight he currently makes, but it must be an interesting one, if that look is anything to go by. 

“Where’s Chris?” Eddie asks, his feet taking him closer to Buck as the man turns back around, towards cleaning the dishes in the sink, which, why? He’s got a dishwasher for that, which Buck _knows_.

“In bed already,” Buck answers, making Eddie frown. He’d missed it? “He didn’t want to wake you, but he made sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he went to his room. It was super adorable.” 

“Thank you, Buck,” Eddie murmurs, his feet still dragging him forward, until he’s suddenly got his forehead pressed in between Buck’s shoulder blades, much like the man had done to him. He feels Buck tense momentarily before he relaxes again, Eddie’s head shifting to accommodate when Buck’s arms move with the dishes. 

“Any time, Eddie,” Buck answers, his voice soft but firm, “I mean it.” 

And that’s… well, it’s _everything_ to Eddie, because he knows Buck means it. That Buck would probably drop everything just to come here and be with them, even if it meant making dinner _and_ cleaning it up, as well as putting Eddie’s son to bed. Fuck, he’s so gone for Buck it almost hurts. 

Or, maybe that’s his body talking, drowsiness dragging him down. He wraps his arms around Buck before he can think anything of it, laying his cheek against his shoulder as he closes his eyes. If Buck can be clingy, so can he, right? He’s just tired, that’s all. 

“Mm, you’re the best,” Eddie mumbles, eyes slipping shut as he lets himself drift, just a bit, comforted by the warmth of Buck pressed against his chest, by the sound of the running water drowning out all the thoughts swirling in his head. 

He loses track of time again, until suddenly Buck’s turning around, sliding one of Eddie’s arms around his shoulders, even despite his pathetic sound of protest at the movement. 

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” Buck says in return, which sounds really goddamn nice right about now, Eddie decides. 

He must say as much because Buck chuckles beside him, squeezing Eddie’s wrist gently as his other arm wraps around Eddie’s waist, guiding him down the hall and into his room, not stopping until Eddie’s suddenly sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“Eddie,” Buck murmurs, fingers beneath his chin, tilting his head up even though all Eddie wants to do is let it fall down, so he can sink into the comfort of his bed, of his pillows. “We’ve gotta get your jeans off or you’re gonna hate yourself tomorrow.” 

Eddie simply grunts in response, his hands drifting down to the button, but it’s no use — it’s like his body isn’t cooperating anymore, his head shaking as he falls back onto the bed. 

“Can’t do it,” he answers, his hands flopping about, Buck’s chuckle reaching his ears as he adds, “hands’re broken.” 

“Alright, then.” Buck, like the saint he is, takes care of it for Eddie, tapping his hips, a wordless suggestion for Eddie to lift them up. He does as much, so Buck can drag them down and off, his socks the next things to go before Buck’s hands are suddenly gone. 

Eddie doesn’t like that one bit. 

“Scoot up,” Buck’s voice returns, somehow above Eddie, near where he’s sure his pillows are. It takes all the strength Eddie has left in him to make his way up, his head finally resting on his pillows. 

The next thing he knows, Buck’s tugging the blanket over his body, his hands hovering somewhere near his shoulders before they disappear. 

“Night, Eddie,” Buck whispers, his voice farther away again, retreating towards the door. 

Eddie maybe freaks out, just a little. 

“Wait,” he says, shooting up, suddenly wide awake, to see Buck in the doorway to his room, hand on the doorknob. He looks startled, surprised by Eddie’s sudden outburst, but obviously willing to hear him out. 

“Will you stay with me? Tonight? I just— I’d feel better knowing you’re near.” Eddie’s blurting it out before he can think about it, before he can remind himself of why it’s a bad idea to ask something of Buck. Is it, though? When Buck has fallen asleep on him so many times? 

“Oh,” Buck murmurs, hesitating, glancing between Eddie and down the hall, no doubt thinking of Christopher. It doesn’t bother Eddie, why would it? Buck crashes at their place all the time, it’s just… usually on the couch. “Are you sure?” 

Eddie’s nodding before he can talk himself out of it, throwing the blanket on his bed back to offer Buck room, scooting over as well so he’s not right in the middle. “Please?” 

Buck falls asleep on him all the time. This is fine. This is just… like that, only in Eddie’s bed. 

“Alright,” Buck whispers, stepping back into Eddie’s room, shutting the door behind him. Only then does Eddie relax, laying back on his bed again, quietly watching Buck go through the motions he’d just helped Eddie with a few moments ago. 

By the time Buck slides into bed, Eddie’s eyes are closed again, a soft, pleased hum spilling past his lips as he feels the bed dip and the blanket shift as Buck gets comfortable beside him. It feels as normal as anything to reach out, to rest his hand on the man’s chest, to _feel_ him there, to let the comfort of it wash over him. 

Yeah, this is exactly what he’d been missing all this time. 

“G’night, Buck,” Eddie mumbles, his thumb rubbing back and forth once, twice across Buck’s chest. He feels it when he shifts, moves onto his side next to Eddie, leaving his hand to rest on the side not laying against the bed. 

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Buck whispers and Eddie swears he feels a brush of something against his forehead before he drifts off to sleep, but he gives way before he can figure out what exactly it was. 

—————————————————

The first thing Eddie comprehends when he wakes up is that he’s not alone, not even in the slightest, because there’s arms wrapped around his waist and a body pressed up against his back. He tenses for a moment, before he remembers who it is, why he’s there, what Eddie had done in his sleep-deprived state.

He doesn’t regret it, though, not like he thought he might’ve. How can he, when this is something he’s thought about so damn often? When he’s wanted it, but hasn’t known how to ask? Apparently he’d figured it out last night, if Buck is still here, pressed up against Eddie like he belongs there, holding onto him like he’s afraid he’s going to disappear. 

As if Eddie has anywhere else he’d rather be right now. 

It’s still early, he can tell by the way the light is coming in through his window, but time doesn’t matter much to him right now. It’ll be a while yet before Christopher is up, which means he can enjoy this moment for what it is, and he continues to drift in and out of sleep for another hour or so, until he feels Buck begin to stir behind him. 

God, but he doesn’t want this to end. 

“G’morning,” Eddie rasps, before Buck can make a hasty escape like he’s afraid he might. Apparently he’d been wrong, if the way Buck’s arm tightens around him is anything to go by. Eddie just barely manages to keep back a shiver when he feels Buck’s nose brush against the back of his neck, too. 

“Morning,” Buck answers, to no surprise of Eddie’s, still utterly clingy even now, resting his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder with a sigh. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Like a fuckin’ baby,” Eddie admits, a smile slowly overtaking his face. He feels rested, for the first time in ages, like he could get up and run a marathon if he wanted to. He won’t, though, because Buck is _here_.

“Mm, finally,” Buck teases, making Eddie chuckle throatily, tilting his head in an effort to look back at his friend. 

“Maybe you’re just what the doctor ordered,” Eddie teases right back, raising an eyebrow once Buck’s head lifts and he sees the amused smirk on his lips. A smirk that Eddie would really, really like to feel against his own mouth, his skin, everywhere. 

Fuck, he cannot be having these thoughts, not now. But, he can’t help the way his eyes wander, stay locked on Buck’s lips, long enough to see the way they slip out of that smirk and into that same open-mouthed expression he’d worn the night before when Eddie’d nearly, when he’d almost…

“Buck…” Eddie whispers, shifting until he’s lying on his back, Buck’s arm still draped around him, now holding his body above Eddie’s own — and Eddie, god.. he _wants_.

“Eddie,” Buck answers, his voice soft, his own eyes drifting now, downwards, no doubt looking at his mouth like Eddie’d been doing to him a mere moment before. 

Eddie shifts, tilts his head up, _inviting_ , seconds away from lifting his hand up, to coax Buck down…

And, that’s when it all blows up in his face, with the quick shout of _Dad!_ from across the hall. 

“Shit,” Eddie grunts, looking towards the door, already mourning the loss of Buck’s warmth as the man rolls off of him, scrambling. 

“Fuck, shit,” Buck rambles, making Eddie’s eyebrows furrow because, yeah, maybe this would be a little weird to explain to Christopher, but it’s not _that bad_. Only, then Buck keeps talking, and he realizes what the problem is. “I’m gonna be late.” 

That’s right. Buck’s working today, but Eddie’s not. He’s got the day off because Christopher’s got a doctor’s appointment. Fuck, talk about bad timing. 

“Buck, wait—” Eddie tries, sitting up, but Buck’s already scrambling to get his clothes on, Eddie biting back the comment he wants to make about how that’s definitely _his_ shirt Buck’s got on, not his own. 

“I gotta go, fuck, I’m so late. I’ll text you later, okay?” Buck promises, leaning down to press his lips to Eddie’s forehead, brief — a blink and you miss it sort of moment — before he’s turning to hurry out of the room, shouting his goodbyes to Christopher on the way out. 

How his truck wound up back in his driveway, not even Eddie knows, once he finally gets them dressed and fed and out the front door an hour or so later. 

It’s not until he’s halfway to the doctor’s office that he puts together what Buck had done. 

He’d kissed his forehead this morning. He’d kissed Eddie last night, too, before he fell asleep. 

Maybe Hen was right. 

They _really_ need to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know where to find me !!
> 
> yes, this turned into a 3 chapter thing, i don't control what the heart wants.


	3. fan this spark into a flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your kind comments and kudos, they made my day every time!!!
> 
> the prompt for this one issssss: [takes hand, puts it over heart] “This is what I feel when I’m with you. And I’m powerless to stop it.”
> 
> lets see where it takes us :) hopefully it was worth the long wait!!

They need to talk about it, but… they don’t talk about it.

Not for lack of trying on Eddie’s part, anyway, but it seems as if the universe has other plans for the both of them. They barely get a chance to breathe at work all week, all the calls seemingly back-to-back and, by the time their shifts are over, Buck’s so dead on his feet that the last thing Eddie wants to do is add more to his plate.

Even though all he wants to do is drag Buck back to his place so they can fall asleep in his bed again. Together. 

At least he doesn’t have to worry about not sleeping, given the fact that he’s so tired by the end of the day that all it takes is making sure Christopher is tucked in and his alarm is on for him to crash within five seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

But, just because he thinks it’s a well enough excuse as to why Buck hasn’t been around much, it doesn’t mean Christopher is all too pleased about it.

“Daddy,” Christopher says one night as Eddie’s tucking him in, setting the book they’d been reading together on the nightstand next to his glasses.

“Yeah, buddy?” Eddie asks, his features softening as they always do once he looks at his son, feels the ever-present wave of _endearment_ wash over him as he does.

“Is Buck okay?” Christopher asks, looking down at the blanket instead of at him, which means he doesn’t see the way that Eddie’s face twists up at that, with confusion and worry.

“Of course he is, why’re you asking?” Eddie asks, resting one of his hands over where Christopher’s are fidgeting together, to try and grab his attention. When he does look up, it’s impossible to miss the sadness there, something he always dreads to see on his son’s face.

“Because he hasn’t been over in a while…” Christopher leads, glancing over towards the wall, where Eddie knows there’s pictures of the pair of them, _made_ by them, “and the last time that happened it was because he got hurt.”

Eddie’s chest feels hollow, aching, as he thinks about the last time Buck had been absent from their lives, his own eyes downcast now as he drags in a deep breath. It’s times like these that remind Eddie of how much his son has been through — far, far too much for a boy of his young age.

“He’s not hurt at all,” Eddie promises, “and I’ll bet he’s missing you just as much. We’ve just… been working very, very hard lately and Buck’s been needing to get lots of sleep, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Christopher murmurs, though Eddie can see that it’s not doing enough to lift his spirits and, well… he certainly can’t have that.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s tugging his phone out from his pocket, shooting off a quick text of _You up?_ to Buck, his other hand sliding gently through Christopher’s curls in an attempt to appease him. 

As always, Buck’s answer comes through quickly: _For you? Always._

Eddie ignores the way his stomach flips at the damn words before he simply hits the call button next to Buck’s name, bringing the phone to his ear before he can talk himself out of it. 

“Is everything okay?” Buck answers after barely even one ring, worry lacing his tone in a way that makes the guilt in Eddie’s chest feel all the more heavy. 

“Yeah, Buck, everything’s good,” Eddie assures his friend, a small smile twitching on his lips as he sees the way Christopher perks up, “I’ve just… got someone here who could really use a hello from his favorite Buckley.”

It’s impossible to miss the way that Buck’s voice shifts at that and Eddie can almost picture the smile on Buck’s face as he puts together what Eddie’s going on about.

“The mini Diaz? Put him on,” Buck answers and Eddie does just that, passing the phone over to Christopher who would likely be bouncing if he could, in his excitement.

“Hi, Buck!” Christopher says, all smiles and crinkled eyes and Eddie watches as he talks with Buck, imagines what the man might be saying to him on the other end of the line. 

Of course Eddie knows that Christopher loves him, that the bond they share is something that no one can touch, but he also knows that Christopher loves _Buck_. They have a bond all their own, too, and Eddie sees no reason why he shouldn’t let them. They love each other, Buck would do _anything_ for Christopher — which is obvious, given the fact that he’s on the phone with him late at night, all because his son had missed him.

Fuck, Eddie’s so damn gone for that man.

“Daddy.” Christopher’s voice brings him back to the present, his eyebrows raising as he sees him holding his phone back towards him, the screen lit up, an indication that Buck’s still on the line. He takes the phone and holds onto it, leans down to press a kiss to Christopher’s forehead as he stands to turn off the light. 

“Night, buddy. I love you,” Eddie says, smiling as his son echoes the sentiment before closing his eyes, obviously settled and pleased by whatever Buck had said to him. 

He doesn’t talk until he’s successfully out of the room and the door is shut, save for a small crack, and he’s retreating down the hall to his own room.

“Buck?” He asks, bringing the phone up to his ear, worried he might’ve lost him in the few moments of silence. 

“Still here,” comes his friend’s answer, making a wave of relief wash through Eddie; maybe he’s missed Buck just as much, even though he’s seen him every day. It doesn’t necessarily mean they’d been spending quality time together, though. 

“Thank you for doing that,” Eddie says, sitting on the edge of his bed, “it means a lot.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Eddie,” Buck answers and there’s rustling on the other end, making Eddie curious if his friend is in bed, too. “You know I’d do anything for you guys. I’d spend all night on the phone if that’s what it took.” 

“God, Buck, how are you even real?” Eddie breathes, shaking his head as his eyes close, as he wonders not for the first time what the hell he’d done to deserve to have someone like Buck in his life. 

“Well, you see, Eddie,” Buck starts, a teasing tilt to his voice, “when a man and a woman love each other _very much_ …” 

He doesn’t get much further before Eddie’s laughing, Buck following not long after that, until their laughter fades into a silence that should feel uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. Even as it stretches on, nothing but the sound of their breathing drifting over the line, Eddie doesn’t feel at odds. If anything, he could probably fall asleep like this, which he claims is the reason he finds himself laying down, closing his eyes as he settles on the mattress. 

“Eddie?” Buck finally asks, quiet, inquisitive, like he’s testing to see if Eddie’s still on the line, still awake. 

“Yeah, Buck, I’m here,” Eddie answers, just as quiet, as if they’re in some small bubble right next to one another, rather than miles away. 

“I meant what I said, y’know,” Buck says, “whatever you need… I’m here for you. Both of you.” 

And, yeah, Eddie _knows that_ , but that doesn’t mean his breath doesn’t catch in his throat all the same at the reminder. 

“Y’know I’d do anything for you, too, right?” Eddie asks suddenly, eyebrows furrowing together, because he can’t remember if he’s ever said that to Buck — but he wants, desperately, to make sure that his friend knows. 

“I know,” Buck answers, drifting off, only to speak up a moment later, “Eddie, I…” 

“Yeah?” He asks in return, his heart thundering in his chest, his mind running away from him over all the possibilities of what Buck could say to him next. 

“I… should let you go,” Buck whispers, making Eddie’s heart sink in his chest. 

“Right… it’s late,” Eddie agrees, hoping the disappointment doesn’t bleed into his tone. What the hell was he expecting? For Buck to suddenly realize Eddie’s true feelings and return them? 

That’s exactly what he’d been hoping for, though. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Buck comes back with, almost sounding just as disappointed as Eddie feels, as if having to hang up now — even though they’ll see each other in literally a few hours — is the last thing he wants to be doing. 

“Bright and early,” Eddie confirms, pinching the bridge of nose in an effort to keep back a sigh. “Goodnight, Buck.” 

“Goodnight, Eddie.” 

Eddie ends the call before finally heaving out a sigh, turning over onto his side to plug his phone in and set in on the nightstand, rolling back over again to stare up at the ceiling. 

Moments like these, nights spent both with and without Buck show him just how much of a fixture the man has become in his life. How much Eddie would like to have him around every day, for the pair of them to tuck Christopher in together — to slide into bed _together_ , in a home they could call theirs. Truthfully, his house doesn’t feel like much of a home without Buck in it. 

He doesn’t get any sleep that night either. 

—————————————————

It only makes sense that the next day, both him and Buck are right back where they started. It’s impossible to miss the way Buck’s feet are dragging and he’s sure he’s just as obvious, in a less subtle way thanks to how often he finds himself yawning. The worst, yet, is the fact that it seems to start off a back and forth chain between him and Buck, the pair of them taking turns yawning over the breakfast Bobby had prepared for their early shift.

“Oh my god,” Chimney blurts, waving his fork between him and Buck, making Eddie’s eyebrows quirk higher on his forehead, “what is happening here? I thought you two had some sort of special arrangement. Or… did you two…”

Chimney doesn’t finish his train of thought, the wiggling of his eyebrows interrupted by the way he grunts and looks over at Hen, affronted, no doubt thanks to whatever her foot just did to Chim’s leg under the table. It makes him smirk and Buck snort beside him, Eddie’s gaze flickering over towards his friend.

Even like this, he’s struck speechless, lost in staring at Buck in a way that’s probably obvious — must be, given the way he hears Chimney snort across the table again.

“You got something to share with the class, Howie?” Buck cuts in, which — probably not the best idea, given the fact that Chimney has never been one to be shy. It shows, too, in the smirk that lands on his face, the way he leans against the table on his elbows.

But, before he can get a word in, the alarm rings through the station, making Eddie’s muscles relax; he hadn’t even realized he’d gotten tense in the first place.

“Saved by the bell,” Chimney claims as they all shove their chairs back and race down to the truck.

Even though the day is full of back to back calls, they’re all easy enough, but Eddie doesn’t dare say anything about it. He can’t, he knows better, is more than aware of the fact that saying anything will jinx it and they’ll find themselves in the midst of a mess they’ll spend hours working through.

By the time they make it back to the station and don’t immediately have to jump back into the truck, Eddie has to take a second to lean against it, his head pounding and his eyelids feeling as though they’ve got sandbags tied to them. He nearly falls asleep right where he’s standing, which means he jumps the second he feels someone’s hand wrap around his wrist.

“Eddie,” Buck murmurs, one of very few voices that’ll make Eddie open his eyes every time, “let’s go lay down.”

And, how is he supposed to deny that? He can’t, wouldn’t even dream of it, just gives a curt nod and lets Buck pull him forward, follows as quickly as his exhausted legs will carry him towards the dark, quiet bunk room. 

“We’ve earned a nap,” Buck assures Eddie, dropping his wrist on the way towards one of the beds, kicking off his boots to flop down onto it, groaning softly the second he settles.

Eddie, though… suddenly, he finds that he can’t move. Even though all he wants to do is lay down, to give into the heaviness behind his eyes, he’s frozen in place, hovering between one bed and the next: the one Buck is laying in, or the empty one beside him. 

He’s not sure how long he stands there for, only for the silence to be broken by Buck, speaking his name softly in the dark, barely above a whisper. 

“Mm?” Eddie responds, glancing again towards the empty bed; the one that isn’t nearly as enticing as the one Buck’s laying on. All he can think about is how good it’d felt, all those days ago, when he’d fallen asleep in the same bed as his friend — when he’d woken up in the man’s arms. Is it so bad that he wants it again?

“You gonna lay down or what?” Buck asks, shifting onto his back to look in Eddie’s direction. He can just make out his form, the dim lighting from a lamp at the other end of the room casting shadows across his face. “There’s plenty of room.”

Even though it’s what Eddie had been wanting, his stomach still drops all the same, his breath catching at the clear invitation Buck is sending his way. There’s no denying it, no way he can act like it’s not real, not when he sees the way Buck shifts over, leaves enough room for Eddie on the bed. 

Again, his gaze shifts over to the empty bed, the one he’d have all to himself, the decision made before he even looks back towards where Buck is spread out, waiting, yet leaving just enough room for Eddie to join. They both need the sleep, they’ve proven the fact that they sleep better _together_ , so why not take advantage?

“Better not kick me in your sleep,” Eddie teases, sliding off his shoes before climbing into the bed next to Buck, quick to lay on his side with his back towards the man, an invitation of his own. 

“Please, you know from experience that I’m a sleep-clinger, not a fighter,” Buck answers and Eddie feels the bed dip and shift behind him as Buck moves, making his heart slowly tick up in his chest.

“I do know that,” Eddie confirms, soft, his fingers brushing back and forth against the blanket beneath them. “Don’t recall having any complaints, either.” Again, it’s an invitation, just without the words said plainly, though he hopes that now is yet another moment that Buck will be able to see what Eddie’s trying to get at without him having to actually _say it_.

“I remember,” Buck murmurs, his voice suddenly closer, which only serves to make Eddie’s heart beat even faster in his chest, his fingers curling tight around the fabric of the blanket beneath them as Buck’s hand slides over his hip — soft, hesitant, like he’s testing whether or not this is what Eddie’d really meant by his words. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, tired of living in the limbo, the uncertainty, Eddie reaches down and grabs Buck’s hand, tugs his arm around his body, doesn’t relent until he’s got Buck’s chest pressed against his back. Even though his heart is thundering in his chest, he can’t ignore how it makes him feel _settled_ at the same time.

“Much better,” Eddie mumbles, closing his eyes, not thinking anything of what he’d just done, choosing instead to focus on how nice it feels to have Buck so close.

He’s asleep within a minute.

—————————————————

It easily could’ve been minutes, hours, _days_ before Eddie’s eyes flutter open again, time always hard to keep a grasp on in this room. Though, it could’ve been the end of the world and Eddie wouldn’t have cared, not when he’s got Buck still wrapped firmly around him, their legs somehow having become tangled together in their sleep.

The only problem is the fact that Eddie isn’t so sure he can keep doing this. He’d wanted it, Buck had welcomed it, but… there’s only so much he can take before he’s pretty sure he’s going to explode from keeping it all bottled up. It’s his own fault, granted, considering he’s had multiple opportunities in the _entire time_ he’s known Buck, but, well.

He’s never been able to keep what he wants, what he’s tried for, what he yearns for in his life. Someone to love, who loves him in return… a family for his son, who deserves far, far better than the way the universe has been treating him. Eddie can take all the bullshit dished out on himself, he could handle the rejection, but _Christopher_ — that kid deserves everything and more and all Eddie wants to do is give that to him.

The thing is, there’s no denying that Buck feels the same way, has always been one to walk through fire for Eddie’s son. Hell, he’d fought through a goddamn tsunami, battered and bruised and _bleeding_ to find his son. Buck has always shown up: has answered the phone when Eddie calls, drives them both home when Eddie can barely keep his head up. He cooks dinner, helps Christopher with his homework, does the goddamn _dishes_ at Eddie’s own fucking house.

So many little things, maybe, but all of them mean so much more than Eddie can properly put into words; they scream _family_.

By the time Buck stirs behind him, Eddie can’t breathe, his mind racing and his heart thundering in his chest with the realization he’s just made.

“Pretty sure sleep is supposed to make you relaxed, not all tense,” Buck rasps behind him, his hand slowly drifting back and forth across Eddie’s chest, an act of comfort that’s mostly just making Eddie’s heart squeeze.

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs, and something in his voice must do the trick, because he’s suddenly being rolled onto his back and there’s Buck, right above him, everything about his expression screaming _concern_.

“What happened? Was it a nightmare? Can I do something?” Buck asks, his hand still resting over Eddie’s chest. The look on his face tells Eddie everything he needs to know, everything he’s been missing this entire goddamn time.

“You’ve already been doing it,” Eddie admits, his lips sliding into a small smile, endeared by the look of confusion that knits Buck’s eyebrows together. “This whole goddamn time, Buck, you’ve been here, with me, with _us_.”

“Eddie, I don’t…” Buck whispers, cut off when Eddie shakes his head — he’s not done, he needs to get it out now or he never will.

“You’d do anything for us, me… Christopher. You fought the goddamn fucking ocean for my kid and, God, Buck, you drive me home when I’m tired. You make fucking dinner, you stuck around just because I asked you to. You answered your phone in the middle of the goddamn night last night, just because Chris wanted to talk to you.”

“I told you, I’m always gonna be there for him. For _you_ ,” Buck assures, though Eddie’s not so sure he’s quite getting it yet, that he’s grasping where Eddie’s going with all of this.

“That’s the whole point, Buck,” Eddie whispers, reaching up to curl his hand around Buck’s wrist, “you’re exactly what we’ve needed this entire goddamn time.”

He sees it, then, the slow understanding dawning across Buck’s face, the warring emotions that shift through right afterwards: hope, uncertainty.

“Eddie,” Buck breathes, almost desperate, his voice wavering, “don’t say that to me if you don’t… if you don’t mean it the way I want you to.”

“I mean it, Buck,” Eddie whispers, using the grip he has around his friend’s wrist to slide his hand over, above where his heart is still pounding away in his chest, “this is what I feel when I’m with you. And I’m powerless to stop it.”

The noise Buck makes at that sounds almost pained, like he can’t quite believe it, and Eddie wonders if Buck almost doesn’t _want_ to believe it. He knows all about his friend’s insecurities, the fear of abandonment he’s been battling his entire life, and all Eddie wants to do is prove to him that he’ll never have to worry about that again.

“You’re it, Buck,” Eddie murmurs, letting go of the man’s wrist so he can instead curl it around the side of Buck’s neck, his thumb sweeping across his cheekbone like he’s done so many times now, “and I kinda wanna keep you, if you’ll have us.”

“Promise me you mean it,” Buck whispers, finally catching Eddie’s gaze, and he feels the way the man’s hand presses firmer against his chest, as if he’s trying to detect some lie that Eddie’s not telling; and he knows not to feel offended by Buck’s uncertainty, not when both of them have been left so many times it’s a wonder they still have it in them to try again. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“Buck,” Eddie whispers, earnest, tugging him down gently, closer, towards what he’d been asking for last time, “I promise.”

Again, a soft, desperate noise curls out of Buck’s chest before his lips are suddenly _there_ , on Eddie’s, lighting him up from the inside out. It’s practically desperate, like Buck’s worried Eddie is going to disappear, and he lets it happen for a few moments, lets their lips crash and slide together, feels the way Buck’s hand curls tight around the fabric of his shirt.

But, eventually, Eddie pulls away, despite Buck’s huff of complaint, only to come back in again a moment later, soft as he pecks his lips, again and again. It seems to do the trick, because soon Buck is smiling against his lips, Eddie’s hand shifting to the side so he can press his lips against every inch of Buck’s face that he’s been memorizing with his fingertips all this time.

The length of his jaw, his forehead, the tip of his nose and then, finally, _finally_ his birthmark.

“God, Eddie,” Buck whispers, his voice sounding shaky as he drops down onto his elbow, pressing their bodies closer where he’s still hovering over him, “you’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Think I might have some idea,” Eddie counters, his lips still wandering, this time further, over the length of Buck’s neck, where he feels the vibrations of the pleased hum he lets out.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Buck admits, his hand sliding down Eddie’s side, making a thrill shoot down his spine at the soft touch.

“Well, I’ve got plenty of time to make it up to you,” Eddie promises, pleased when the drag of his teeth gently of Buck’s neck elicits a groan from him.

“By all means,” Buck answers, breathless, and Eddie sets to work, exploring the expanse of Buck’s neck with his mouth, his hands tugging at his shirt to get it out from where it’s tucked into his pants.

“I’m happy for you two and everything, but uh… Bobby said no funny business in the bunk room,” Chimney’s voice comes in from the doorway, making Eddie laugh where he’s got his mouth attached to Buck’s neck, his hands stilling where they’d been sliding beneath his shirt. 

“He didn’t say anything about the showers,” Buck whispers, teasing, though there’s no denying the curious look Eddie spots in his eyes once he tilts his head back.

“Only one way to find out,” Eddie answers, his laughter following them as Buck scrambles off the bed and tugs Eddie along by the hand to the showers.

And, even when all they do is spend their time sharing kisses and taking turns washing each other’s hair, Eddie knows he wouldn’t trade this time with Buck for anything.

Nor can he wait to find out where the world will take them next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tadaaaa we did it !! also i changed urls again but u can find me on tumblr @edditodiaz 
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed another soft eddie installment!


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